A/N: Hello, people! The name comes from a poem by the same name, written by Aracelis Girmay.
I don't own Hannibal.
I have no beta.
ENJOY!
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"Will has expressed some… displeasure at your attempted correspondence and should you continue this fruitless attempt at attention, he may decide to move across the country."
Hannibal sat at his table. He'd been a good little cannibal. He followed the rules laid out before him, did not speak out against anyone, kept the manipulation to the barest of minimums, and even treated his orderlies and doctors well.
With good behavior he was awarded many privileges. A toilet, a bed, a pillow. They allowed him to have papers and pencils, though they would keep the sharpeners and only sharpened them once a day. He was brought the morning paper and allowed to peruse it at his leisure. They allowed him to take meals with visitors while under careful watch. He was even permitted to write to various people.
Bedelia being one of them, in order to remind her of where he was and that she would never truly be rid of him. Others he claimed were friends. Friends who were just people paid to take the messages he sent them, to others.
While he may have been imprisoned, he was by far not a slouch.
He had three young women who each had a contact. When Hannibal sent them mail, they would place it in a new envelope and send it to where it belonged. Each time, Hannibal would make a call to one of his attorneys and a transaction for the services would go through one of Hannibal's many accounts that the authorities didn't know of.
Alana - dear, sweet Alana who was so brave and so very foolish - thought she had everything. Thought that she had him for the rest of his life.
She allowed him these bare niceties out of pity. And a small about of egotism for herself.
She liked to think herself in power. Hannibal was under her eyes, her heel, in a sense. He had to listen to her, else she jerk the chain around his neck and twist his life into monotony. She reveled in the perceived power she held over his head and Hannibal allowed her to relish it without a word.
Hannibal knew the truth. He was working everything out ahead of time. The Baltimore State Hospital was only a temporary residence. When Will finally came around, he and Hannibal could leave America behind.
Still though, Alana's smug words stung just the slightest.
Will hadn't responded well - not that Hannibal really expected a letter or anything - but his response to Hannibal's friendly gesture was hurtful.
Alana stood before his cage - because that's all it was, a glass cage - looking like the feline who had caught itself the delicious bird. She enjoyed the mental anguish he was going through, even if it wasn't visible on his face.
Alana's survival of her relationship with Hannibal had bred a new person. But not a better one. Alana was just as bloodthirsty as Hannibal was, but as she only targeted her perception of bad people with such thoughts, she assumed that she was better. She wasn't and that was why Hannibal didn't find her embracement of her darker nature to be beautiful or amazing like Will's would be. Because Alana had blinded herself with her own 'goodness'.
Will knew who he was. He didn't deny it, he simply tried to ignore or hide from it. But by no means did Will act as if he was better than Hannibal simply because he had morals that ruined his perception of reality. Will knew he and Hannibal were one in the same. He didn't like the fact, but he accepted it.
Yes, his dear, sweet William was a breath of fresh air. Alana, not so much.
"If you continue to write him letters," said Alana, bringing him from his memory palace. "I will not send them. They will be tossed in the trash. All orderlies will be informed of this."
Hannibal nodded his head once to show understanding.
She would not send any more letters to Will. Hannibal would be unable to convey his feelings now.
Or…
He could convey them and mentally pretend that Will received them and liked them. He knew his WIll well enough to fabricate a reaction from him.
His memory palace Will would adore the letters, while the real Will lived on as if nothing had ever happened. And Hannibal would be spared the denial or repudiation that Will would no doubt spill if he knew how Hannibal really felt.
This in essence… was a blessing in disguise.
Hannibal gave Alana a charming smile. "As you say, Alana."
Hannibal spent his first letter detailing how much he missed Will. How much he longed to lay eyes on him, like a starving man at a feast for kings.
It had always been easy to be himself with Will and when Hannibal handed the finished product to the young woman who took his mail, he let a sad smile grace his features.
Janet - the orderly - had always been respectful. She would not die when Hannibal left the BSHCI. She addressed him by station and nodded respectfully.
And Hannibal could see the frown on her face as she accepted the letter, flicking a small look in his direction.
"I know what you must do," he said firmly. "It is alright, Janet."
"You don't want to keep it?"
He shook his head, "No. I think it best that the letter leaves the premises. Like a lifted burden."
"Alright, sir."
She was gone a moment later, still frowning.
Hannibal returned to his art, mind reeling with imaginative discussions between he and Will and how Will might react to his message.
Janet looked around, entering the shredding room which was used for normal papers. She'd been instructed to shred every letter Hannibal Lecter wrote to Will Graham, but it just didn't seem right.
Alana Bloom never said Will Graham wanted the letters to stop, only that he was displeased with them. It wasn't her decision to make and Janet certainly wasn't going to be a part of it.
With an annoyed huff, Janet leaned down just slightly, stuffing the letter in the gap between her breasts. Will Graham would get the letter, one way or another.
Will saw the envelope resting on his doorstep early morning and picked it up, noticing the curves and loops of the elegant script. Immediately he knew who had sent the letter and drew in a deep breath.
Should he open it?
It had been six months and not once had Hannibal attempted to make contact. Will had assumed that he was waiting for Will to do the work. But apparently not.
He sat at the small table he'd acquired recently and stared at the off-white of the envelope.
Dare he risk it? There would be no turning back. He'd be drawn into Hannibal's world once again if not careful.
But…
Did he really care? Life without Hannibal was boring. Dull.
He tore the side of the envelope and slipped the paper from inside.
Dear Will,
The idea of writing to you has been playing heavily on my mind for months now. I was deeply saddened by your negative response to my first letter, but have decided to attempt for your attention once more.
Will pulled back, frowning. He'd never gotten a letter from Hannibal. What letter?
You are like an addiction, dear Will. Everything about you draws me in like a siren's hypnotizing call. I want to bask in your glory and revel in your greatness that is so much like my own, yet so different.
You make me ache in ways that no one else has ever achieved. It's impressive what you have managed to accomplish without even knowing it. For years I was alone due to finding no one who could understand me and for years that hadn't bothered me for I wasn't lonely. Then you walked into my life.
You, with your terribly ill fitting clothing that did not match, horrible aftershave, wandering mind, bright intellect, open heart, and so much more.
It had been a game at first, until I got to know you. Until you let me know you. I saw so much potential in you and I wanted you to stop fearing the beautiful darkness inside you. That piece of you that longed to be set free to express itself.
I wanted all of you to myself, Will. I was selfish with your heart and mind and I wanted everything you are to be mine. So many people held precedence over me in your eyes and I got rid of them one by one.
I am by no means unselfish. I know the kind of person I am and am not ashamed one bit of it. I am a monstrous creation that adores you. The very air you breath gives me life.
Never have I wanted to crawl inside someone and know every last inch of them. To acquaint myself with their minds as well as their bodies and souls. I want to spread you out over a beautiful bed covered in black silk and learn every inch of your skin as I have your frighteningly, gorgeous mind.
These feelings are possessive, bordering on obsessive. I know that some would consider them unhealthy, but I cling to them and to my memory of your face.
In my memory palace, you await me every day. While my recall is nearly perfection, no dream, no vision, no hallucination of you will ever do you justice. You are beauty like no other.
I said I could live in my memory palace should it come to that and indeed I have begun to. Without you here, I am languishing into nothingness.
I simply wish I could say these words to your face without fear of rejection.
I hope your life is better. At least something good will come of mine and the FBI's distance. Perhaps... you will begin a new life… without me.
As a concerned friend, who is most certain these feelings are not of friendship, I bid thee farewell.
Forever Yours,
Hannibal Lecter VIII.
Will swallowed against the dryness in his throat. That was more than a letter.
It was a confession. Not of love… certainly not. But of something bordering it.
Possession and obsession were strong and Will knew both intimately. Learning of Hannibal's disguise and running off to Europe with Bedelia of all people had annoyed him for reasons unknown at the time.
Now he realized that he was jealous. Hannibal was his and had Will decided where he played without jumping the fence so much, he'd have been the one in hiding with Hannibal.
It ticked him off how possessive he was over a man that had brought him pain and sorrow. And yet so much relief and joy too.
Hannibal was that person that you wanted to hate, but had too many good memories with. That you knew was bad for you but you couldn't help but want more. It was like being allergic to something you find particularly delicious. You know it's good, but it'll kill you if you aren't careful.
Hannibal wasn't holding anything back. He admitted to his feelings and his ambitions regarding Will. Hannibal didn't lie once in that letter, meaning that he was laying every card on the table for Will to see.
But why now?
What was so important about now?
And most of all, what letter did Hannibal send him that Will never received? And who told Hannibal Will had received it and had an offensive response to it?
Will slid the message back into the envelope and got up, slipping it into his underwear drawer for safekeeping. He had to think about this. To think about his next course of action.
Should he send a letter back that was just as deep, filled with confessions, or should he wait? Or ignore it?
He couldn't ignore that. Not after what Hannibal had written.
No. He had a feeling that further letters would be even deeper and Will… kind of wanted to see where it went.
He'd simply wait for a while.
A/N: First is done.
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CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.